


Their Song

by callmechristinae



Series: Livejournal Migration [15]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-05
Updated: 2006-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmechristinae/pseuds/callmechristinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger tries to find their song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Song

Roger sat comfortably on the park bench, his acoustic guitar resting lightly on his lap. He had had this tune floating around in his head all day, but when it came to writing lyrics on paper, nothing was working. He had all the notes written down, but the words just weren’t coming. He had tried just about every random trick in the book, from thinking of a story to set to music to standing on his head. The first had resulted in no success and the latter had resulted in a rather spectacular bruise on his backside. He was pretty sure he was starting to frighten the parents watching their children play on the playground.  
  
Roger sighed, throwing his pen down in anger. He had been trying to write a song for him and his new love, but, no matter how hard he tried, it seemed like nothing worked. Before, way back before he had even met April, there was one place Roger could go to think when he hit this writer’s block. He would sit there for hours by himself, blocking out everything else. Maybe that could help now.  
  
The frustrated songwriter walked down the dirt path, enjoying the leaves crunching beneath his feet. The light flickered through the branches of the trees above, giving him a strange surreal feeling, almost as though he were entering another world. The small lake entered his view, as did his previously common escape. The escape that he thought had been a secret. Upon seeing another person already occupying his spot underneath the aged tree however, he was forced to reevaluate this belief.  
  
“Mark? What are you doing here?” Roger asked, dropping to the ground next to his roommate. The young filmmaker glanced up from his book for a moment before returning his attention to it.  
  
“I’m milking Elsie the cow…didn’t Maureen tell you that she got sick of Diet Coke?” he replied sarcastically, a smug grin appearing on his face. Roger nudged him in the side, causing him to drop the book. The songwriter reached over his friend, picking up the book while making sure not to lose the page it was on.  
  
“ _Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West_  by Gregory Maguire. What the hell is this?” Roger questioned, taking in the green woman on the cover. Her pointed black hat stood out sharply against her emerald skin, the whole picture looking aged.  
  
“It’s about the Wicked Witch of the West,” Mark sighed, taking the book back and gently marking the page before placing it down beside him.  
  
“Why don’t you just read the Wizard of Oz?” The songwriter leaned back onto the grass, reaching his left arm out towards the filmmaker. He gathered the smaller man in his arms, content to rest there with his lover as the tune to his song floated around in the back of his mind.  
  
“Because this is the  _true_  story.”  
  
“And the Wizard of Oz isn’t?”  
  
Mark grinned, dropping soft kisses on Roger’s jaw. “Well, this is about how she grew up. You know, she wasn’t as bad as they make her out to be.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yeah. You know, it kinda gives you hope that, maybe,  **she wasn’t too far to be saved**.” Without him realizing it, the last phrase Mark had said was stored in Roger’s mind.  
  
“That’s nice,” Roger replied, looking down at Mark. They hadn’t had much time to spend together lately, always seeming to be caught up in their work or out with the rest of their lively Bohemian group. They had made it through some rough times together, but they always returned to each other, for  **bold is the love that they fought to save**.  
  
Roger grinned softly to himself as more lyrics floated into his head. Mark’s soft breathing tickled his neck as they lay there in a comfortable silence.  
  
“Roger?”  
  
“Yeah?” The songwriter whispered, nuzzling the man in his arms and softly breathing in the scent of the cheap shampoo they both used.  
  
“What are we going to do for the holidays this year?”  
  
Roger froze, the words sinking in. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean, we always seem to do something special for the holidays and, this is our first one together, so, what are we going to do this year?”  
  
Roger began to shrug before realizing that the motion would shake Mark’s head. “I don’t know, I figured that we were just going to go to the party are Maureen and Joanne’s.”  
  
“Yeah, but, I mean…”  
  
“What?” Roger questioned, beginning to worry that he’d say the wrong thing.  
  
“Aren’t we going to do anything, you know, just the two of us?” Mark looked up at Roger, resting his hand on the other’s chest, only love and a bit of questioning in his eyes.  
  
Roger laughed, looking down at the filmmaker with a wide grin on his face. “Well, we talked about something last night, but you didn’t…”  
  
Mark groaned, his forehead colliding with Roger’s shoulder. “ **Dream on.**  I’m serious Roger. We’re together now, and couple’s tend to do special stuff together during the holidays.”  
  
“I’ve never been very good at the whole planning thing for the holidays. Everything just kinda happens.” That night back in 1989 stood out in both their minds, how everything seemingly happened on its own, altering everyone’s lives forever.  
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Maybe we should just let everything go.”  
  
“Except for one thing.”  
  
“Yeah, we already told Maureen we’d…”  
  
“No, not that.” Mark looked back up, not sure what Roger was talking about. That wasn’t a very rare occurrence.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know…”  
  
“I’m not a mind reader Roger, you’ve got to tell me.”  
  
"You know, the whole ‘Merry Christmas. Now sit and tell Santa what he’s gonna have to stand in line for this year’ deal." Roger could feel Mark’s smile through his light shirt and the gentle shaking that showed he was laughing.  
  
“You’re worked up about presents?”  
  
“Well, yeah.” Roger attempted to speak as offhandedly as possible, trying not to show how worried he really was. But, in the back of his head, he knew that he couldn’t really hide anything from Mark.  
  
“You’ve never been worried before.” Mark reached up and ran his fingers softly through the rocker’s soft blonde hair, attempting to soothe his worries.  
  
“Yeah, but this year is different.”  
  
“Roger,” Mark sighed, leaning up to press his lips softly to the rocker’s. “You don’t need to get me anything different than you normally would just because we’re together now.”  
  
“But…”  
  
“Roger, I’m serious. I’ll love whatever you get me.”  
  
Roger chuckled, turning his head away to hide the tears that were starting to spring to his eyes. “You aren’t going to get all sappy and say I’m all you need, are you?”  
  
“Just  **smile and send me to oblivion**.”  
  
Roger snorted, turning back to look at the man he loved. “You say the weirdest things sometimes.”  
  
“Not any weirder than some of the stuff in your songs.”  
  
“My songs aren’t weird,” Roger protested, a false and teasing anger in his voice.  
  
“Oh, I forgot. They’re ‘arsty’,” Mark mocked, resting his head back against Roger’s shoulder and watching the sun glint off the water.  
  
“And your films aren’t.”  
  
“Don’t insult my films.”  
  
“I’m not insulting them. Is calling them artsy insulting?”  
  
“Shut up.”  
  
The two fell into another comfortable silence, the birds chirping in the trees around them. Mark’s legs gently wrapped around Roger’s, his body fitting in perfectly  **just to the left**  of the songwriter’s.  
  
“So, what are you doing out here Roger?”  
  
“I was trying to write a song, but I was having a hard time with it.”  
  
“That whole  **confusion, indecision**  thing that you complain about?”  
  
Roger grinned, thinking about how much Mark cared about him to listen to every crazy thing that he said. “Yeah.”  
  
“You know what you said the other day that seemed really beautiful?”  
  
“What?”  
  
Mark looked up into Roger’s eyes and said softly, “ **And when there’s only the dark I can still see the light. When there’s only the dark you are always the light**.”  
  
The two looked at each other silently for a moment before Roger responded, “I said that?”  
  
Mark laughed. “Yeah, hard to believe.”  
  
“When did I say that?”  
  
“At night.”  
  
“What were we doing?”  
  
Mark rolled his eyes, tilting his head lightly to the right. “Do you really have to ask that Roger?”  
  
“Oh,” Roger chuckled, pulling his lover tighter against him.  
  
“Wouldn’t think it could come out of the mouth of the man who had said that very same night  **I bet you know just how loud I can scream**.”  
  
The two men laughed together, remaining there under the tree for several more hours. They enjoyed each other’s company without any interruptions for once. The nature surrounding them, their conversations, and Mark’s love helped bring the song to life in Roger’s mind. He wrote frantically in his notebook as he spoke with the filmmaker, not letting the younger man see what he was doing. Just before sunset, they made their way over to the Life Café, holding hands and walking closely together the entire way. Roger took the stage, his worn notebook clasped tightly in his hands as he sat down in front of his band.  
  
“Hey everyone, I’ve got a brand new song for you. I hope you like it.” And with that simple introduction, Roger launched into the song that had been floating through his mind all day.  
  
 _Hit back, it won’t hurt you_  
Lean in, no inertia  
Bold is the love that I fight to save  
Head on, no collision  
Confusion, indecision  
I don’t believe I’m too far to be saved  
  
Twist and turn me, bait and burn me  
Smile and send me to oblivion  
Breathe and bathe me, just be and save me  
Know I’m just here to the left of you  
And when there’s only the dark  
I can still see the light in your eyes  
  
Dream on, fill me up now  
I bet you know just how loud I can scream, don’t you let me go  
Feed on infatuation  
Swallow, just one taste of all that I am, all I have to show  
  
Twist and turn me, bait and burn me  
Smile and send me to oblivion  
Breathe and bathe me, just be and save me  
Know I’m just here to the left of you  
And when there’s only the dark I can still see the light  
When there’s only the dark you are always the light  
  
In my eyes  
In my eyes  
  
Roger smiled at where Mark sat in the back of the restaurant, love shining in his eyes. His grin widened as he saw the joy in the young filmmaker’s eyes. They finally had their song.


End file.
